


his, and his alone

by Thirsty_Baby



Category: Amadeus (1984)
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Implied Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-03
Updated: 2021-03-03
Packaged: 2021-03-15 18:42:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29812764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thirsty_Baby/pseuds/Thirsty_Baby
Summary: Mozart is a whole lot of beautiful, and not so beautiful things. He's everything Salieri would never be able to understand.
Relationships: Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart/Antonio Salieri
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	his, and his alone

**Author's Note:**

> gddksg i love mozart so much oml tom hulce is just so hot also i wrote this with the speed of light in under 10 minutes lol

He's insufferable. All thin wrists and delicate, elegant fingers. Loud and abnoxious... a genius with the mind of a 12 year old shoes shine boy

He's dainty. Almost feminine like, yet his humour is brutal and vulgar, he throws insults right and left with a graceful smile upon his lips.

He's serious. And he's easily angered, his emotions spill over like the liqueur in his glass which he downs again and again, till his cheeks flush and his eyes glaze over. 

He's arrogant. Allows his nose to stick up in the air as he repeats how well of a composer he is, and the blue of his new suit is almost as blue as his irises. No wonder ladies flock to him.

He's childish. A broken porcelain doll that has been thrown agains the wall, yet put back together. This childishness of his makes him temping, one could assume he's as innocent as a wallflower, yet Salieri knows that's not the case.

He's disrespectful. Sometimes everyone around him wishes for his mouth to shut and never open again, but then again, he moves past them, a river, a stormy sea. He has all the rights to be as arrogant as he is, for he is better than all of Vienna.

He's beautiful. Composing at his billiard table, or conducting the rehearsals, his shirt open and the long blonde hair on display. Like the angel of temptation has decided to visit earth in the form of a man.

He's maddening. Pressed against the wall, with those beautiful wrists pinned to the wall, and he lets out tiny moans as his neck is assaulted, bitten over and over again, marks blooming beautifully. 

He's incomprehensible. It's a mystery why he can't just obey, why he can't just spend less money, take better care of himself, why he can't just live the life of a man, not an immortal god. 

He's overwhelming. He appears out of nowhere, drunk and so, so warm. His kiss tastes like cheap wine, but it's his kiss, so it tastes of heaven. He falls back against the sheets and just takes it.  
Takes everything.  
Falls asleep like a child, cuddled up with the fluffy pillows like a cherub on a cloud, but disappears like a man next morning, leaving the bed smelling of wine and regret. 

He's vile. He's the scum of Vienna with the mind of a God. So young yet so deeply, deeply flawed. He jokes around, even though he feels no joy. He drinks, even when he doesn't want to. He composes the finest music to ever grace ones ears, those elegant finger flying up and down, yet feathers and needles clouding his vision.

He's fragile. He's trembling. He's delirious. He's dying in his bed. Never before in his life has Salieri wanted to see a soul leave a body more. Here it is, the joyful moment, his death shall be his peace, his freedom. But he doesn't quite understands yet, that without him, his life would become a mere façade of living. He doesn't quite grasps the concept yet. 

When the last breath of air leaves those pale, chapped lips, his heart skips a beat. He doesn't feel joy. He feels fear. 

And as his fingers grasp the wrist of the composer, pressing into the empty pulse, he doesn't understand why he's not overjoyed. 

Why he's in agony, in pain instead, and why he's screaming, sure of having killed him. 

His idol. 

His friend. 

The man who consumed his life since the very beginning.

His Mozart.

**Author's Note:**

> haha it turned out sadder than i expected it to. ha


End file.
